


over and over again (into oblivion)

by hanyolo



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, season 1 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:27:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyolo/pseuds/hanyolo
Summary: Will has barely managed to dose off when his phone buzzes on the bedside table. Grumbling, he reaches out for it, sighs when he sees Mac’s name lit up on the screen. He considers letting it go to voicemail. Doubts she would be calling him at 2AM about work and he’s not entirely ready to talk to her about anything else yet.Against all better judgement, he answers.// an au of season one because sometimes I can't believe how long it took these idiots to sort their shit out
Relationships: Will McAvoy/MacKenzie McHale
Comments: 66
Kudos: 68





	1. don't wrestle with the night

**Author's Note:**

> my first multi-chapter fic! I have a couple of chapters finished already as well as a rough idea of where I want this story to go so hopefully won't be too long between updates. anyway I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!!

Will has barely managed to dose off when his phone buzzes on the bedside table. Grumbling, he reaches out for it, sighs when he sees Mac’s name lit up on the screen. He considers letting it go to voicemail. Doubts she would be calling him at 2AM about work and he’s not entirely ready to talk to her about anything else yet. 

Against all better judgement, he answers. 

“What?”

She doesn’t say anything and he can feel himself getting annoyed. Then she chokes out his name and his heart stops. 

“MacKenzie?” He sits up, suddenly wide awake, and turns on his bedside lamp. “MacKenzie, what’s wrong?”

“I -, Will -, I need-“ she can’t get the words out and Will’s certain she would be crying if she could catch her breath. Instead, she’s breathing heavily down the phone, shallow, choked gasps and he jumps out of bed. 

“MacKenzie,” he repeats, throwing on jeans. “You need to breathe,” he says gently. He hops through to the living room as he tries to pull his shoes on one-handed, doesn’t even think to grab a jacket as he runs out the door. “I’m coming over, okay?”

He hates that he knows her well enough to know that she’s nodding frantically on the other end of the phone. 

Will stays on the phone as he catches a cab, murmuring words of encouragement the whole time. He counts breaths for her and her breathing somewhat evens out, but she still hasn’t said anything and that’s worrying him. The cab has barely stopped outside her building when Will is throwing bills at the driver and running to her front door. 

“Mac,” he says softly, managing to refrain from manically pressing her buzzer. “I need you to buzz me up.”

She does, after another thirty seconds or so of silence, and Will practically sprints up the three flights of stairs to her apartment, too impatient to wait for the elevator. 

The door has been opened slightly and, after a brief moment of hesitation, he lets himself in. The only light is coming from her bedroom down the hall so he flicks the light switch by the door, startles when he sees her sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall as though she had just slid down it after opening the door for him. Her skin’s pale, her eyes rimmed red, tear stains on her cheeks, and she’s still holding her phone to her ear, fingers white as she clutches it. She hasn’t seemed to notice his presence.

Will crouches down in front of her, gently reaches out for the hand holding her phone. Her breathing is still slightly shallow and, once he has gently taken her phone from her, he softly runs his thumb over her pulse point. “Mac,” he says, voice just above a murmur. “You’re going to be okay.”

Her eyes seem to be tracking his movements now and she seems to at least be aware that he’s there, so he sits cross-legged in front of her (ignores how fucked his knees are going to be in the morning) and takes her other hand, thumb rubbing over the soft skin of her knuckles. He counts again, soft murmurs in time with her pulse, and after a couple of minutes MacKenzie lets out a long, shallow breath, squeezes his hand. 

“Will,” she whispers, voice hoarse, brow furrowed. “Why are you here?”

Will almost laughs, but he doesn’t think it will get past the lump in his throat. He clears his throat, tries to focus on their joined hands. 

“You called me,” he tells her, keeps his voice low and calm as he squeezes her fingers. 

“No.” Mac’s shaking her head now, pulls her hands out his grasp. “I called Jim. I always call Jim.”

Her voice chokes up again and Will can’t believe how remarkably oblivious he has been, how he’s only realising now just how anxious and strung out Mac has been since she started at ACN. And he hasn’t even fucking noticed, has been too busy trying to stay mad at her. 

Mac’s eyes widen and her breathing is becoming erratic again. She desperately reaches for Will’s hands, squeezing hard enough to hurt. But he lets her, because MacKenzie McHale is slouched on the floor in front of him, mid-panic attack, and he has no idea how to help her. 

“Mac,” Will says, voice wavering despite how hard he tries to keep it level. He can’t quite keep out the hint of desperation as he practically begs, “tell me what to do.”

“Just -“ she squeezes her eyes shut, lets her head drop back against the wall behind her. She hasn’t let go of his hands. “Talk to me. Your voice -“

So he does. Shuffling so he is sitting beside her, hip to shoulder, he tells her about the first EP he had after she left (neither bother to point out that he all but kicked her out) and how he’d quit after a week because Will kept ignoring him and taking his earpiece out. Of course, that was before the show moved to YouTube and celebrities. Back when it was still something he could be proud of. Mac leans her head against his shoulder, laces their fingers together. Will is relieved to hear her breathing is starting to even out. 

“How many EP’s have you had?” she asks, voice small and shaky. 

“At least six,” he admits after a moment. Mac huffs out a laugh. 

They sit in silence for a while and Will is starting to suspect she’s fallen asleep when she speaks. 

“I couldn’t work my phone,” she says. Softly, slowly, as if she is talking to herself, trying to work out what led to them sitting together in her hallway in the middle of the night. “I usually call Jim, but I couldn’t work my phone. And yours is the only number I know by heart.”

Will doesn’t know why he’s never changed his number. (That’s a lie. He never changed it because he never wanted her to stop calling, even if he wasn’t ready to answer.) But he’s relieved all the same, doesn’t want to imagine what state Mac would’ve ended up in if she hadn’t been able to phone someone, anyone. And then he remembers that he had almost ignored her call and feels inordinately guilty. 

“Come on,” he says gently, letting go of her hand and standing up. His knees crack and he knows he’ll be sore in the morning. “You should get some sleep.”

“Are you going to carry me to bed?” She murmurs sleepily, eyes half closed as she smiles up at him. And if his heart doesn’t ache, thinking about all the times he’d wake up beside her to see her smiling that exact same smile, soft with sleep and affection. 

He clears his throat. “I’m too old for that.”

“No, you’re not,” she says fondly, but she accepts the hand he holds out for her and lets him pull her to her feet. Her legs are still a bit wobbly so she braces one hand on his chest, the other still holding onto his hand. 

“You okay?”

She closes her eyes, breathes deeply as she tries to centre herself. Eventually, she nods, and when she opens her eyes she’s standing a lot closer to him than she realised. 

“Yeah,” she says shakily, giving him a weak smile. Will’s other hand has somehow found its way to her hip. He squeezes lightly before letting it drop. He doesn’t let go of her hand, however, holding it firmly as he leads her to her bedroom. 

Her bedroom looks exactly how he expected it to. Soft furnishings and warm colours, messy in an organised, lived in way (something his bedroom would never be), a book sitting on top of her nightstand, her reading glasses beside it. And the soft glow of her nightlight on the opposite wall. The same nightlight she’d had when they were together. 

Mac lets go of his hand now but she doesn’t get into bed. Instead, she looks up at him with a slight frown, teeth pressing into her bottom lip. A blush spreads over her cheeks as she tugs nervously on the bottom of her t-shirt. 

“Can you stay until I fall asleep?” She asks quietly, and he knows she hates how vulnerable sounds. His answer is to make his way around the bed and sit above the covers (on the right side, which had always been his way back when), back against the headboard and legs spread out in front him him. Mac pulls the covers back and climbs in beside him. She burrows under the duvet, careful to keep some distance between them. 

“Talk to me,” she requests sleepily, curling up on her side so she is facing him. 

Will hesitates, not really sure what to say or do. Then he leans over slightly - ignores the way he has inadvertently shuffled closer to her - and grabs the book she had left on her nightstand. Lets out a huff of amusement when he reads the title. Don Quixote. Ignoring her bookmark, he opens it at the first page and starts to read, voice low and gentle.

After a few minutes, Mac lets out a content, sleepy sigh and shuffles closer to him. He’s always radiated heat and she’s too tired to think beyond that, so she tucks her head in against his hip and curls her arm around his thigh. Other than faltering on a word, Will makes no indication that he minds, so Mac lets her eyes flutter closed and is asleep in minutes. 

.

Will is gone when she wakes up, the faint scent of him on her sheets the only thing telling her it hadn’t been a dream. But she had been expecting that, had been surprised when he had agreed to stay, never mind the fact that he came in the first place. There’s a brief moment of panic when she realises that Will now knows how fucked up she is and part of her thinks she wouldn’t be surprised if he fires her at the end of the week. What would be worse, however, would be if he were to start being nice to her out of pity. These thoughts are making it hard to focus on anything, so she pushes them down, tries to focus on what really matters. Which is that Will came when she called him and stayed when she needed him, and she can’t help but feel pleased that they seem to, finally, be moving forward. 

Other than a tilt of his head when she enters the bullpen (she responds with a nod and he seems to accept this), Will makes no mention of the previous night, and MacKenzie’s worries that he’ll start to treat her differently dissipate completely when, fifteen minutes into the morning rundown, they are yelling at each other about something that definitely didn’t need to become an argument.


	2. wanting not to want you (won't make it so)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Will really needs to change the subject - or hang up - because they’re edging closer to an intimacy he’s been trying to avoid, and it feels dangerous and uncertain and uncomfortably familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 2 is here! thank you everyone who read/left kudos/ commented on chapter 1, I'm glad you liked it and I hope you like this one too. (I will try to respond to comments soon, been a busy week!) anyway, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!

Will knows he should stop phoning her in the early hours of the morning, that it’s been all too easy to slip back into old habits. But he likes talking to her over the phone, likes that he can picture her facial expressions without having to see her, the way she murmurs his name into the phone when she answers, and he likes how much easier he finds it to open up when she can't see his face. So he’s not really planning to stop anytime soon. Besides, when else should he be calling his ex-girlfriend (who is driving him crazy and who he can’t stop thinking about) than when he’s been drinking since he got home?

She answers after one ring and he feels slightly better knowing that she was probably expecting (waiting for) his call.

“Will,” she murmurs in that way he loves. “It’s two in the morning.”

“Were you asleep?” He asks, sure he already knows the answer. 

She laughs softly down the phone. “No. I’m still up.”

“What are you doing?” His voice comes out low and husky and he really hopes MacKenzie hasn’t noticed. The moment of silence before she responds tells him she has. 

“I’ve nearly finished _Don Quixote_ ,” she tells him proudly, and he remembers finding it by her bed the night she’d called him mid-panic attack, reading it to her as she drifted off to sleep beside him. 

“I’ve never read it,” he admits sheepishly. 

“Billy!” Mac gasps in outrage. And he would be teasing her for her reaction if this weren’t the first time she’s called him Billy in years. Despite his grumbling when she’d first started using the nickname, he grew to love it (only from her, in her sweet, melodic accent) and he hasn’t realised how much he’s missed it until just now. 

“I’ve seen the musical,” he says after too long a silence. Then, almost defensively, adds, “On Broadway.”

“That settles it,” she says firmly. “I’m Don Quixote.”

And even though he’s never gotten around to reading it, Will has seen the musical enough to know that Don Quixote takes on this crazy mission in the hopes of impressing Dulcinea and proving his worth. So he feels a stronger argument can be made in his favour, but this also isn’t a conversation he’s ready to have. 

“Good show tonight,” he tells her instead, changing the subject to work, an easier, more comfortable topic of conversation than literally anything else. 

Mac hums softly, and Will can hear rustling over the phone, followed by a bang and “shit.”

“Everything okay?” He asks, voice a mix of concern and amusement.

“My feet were cold,” she tells him, almost defensively. And he smiles at this, despite the weight that settles in his chest, because of course her feet were cold. She used to love warming them up by tangling their legs together, her cold feet running up and down his calves. He would complain every time, yet still let her do it. “And I tripped trying to put socks on,” she adds sheepishly. He laughs at this, loud and uninhibited, surprising them both. 

“Are you alright?” He asks after a moment, when he has managed to stop picturing her hopping about her bedroom trying to pull her socks on. 

“My arse broke my fall,” she tells him. “So I think I’ll be okay. One second.” There’s more movement then she lets out an annoyed huff. “I have too many pillows,” she explains and Will’s about to tease her, something he had done relentlessly when they had been unofficially living together in D.C., when he’s struck by the all too familiar image of her lying in bed, huffing as she tries to position herself comfortably around three pillows minimum. (More often than not she would end up using him as a pillow. His chest, his bicep, his shoulder; wherever she could make herself comfortable.) And Will really needs to change the subject - or hang up - because they’re edging closer to an intimacy he’s been trying to avoid, and it feels dangerous and uncertain and uncomfortably familiar. 

“Billy?” Mac asks softly, and it’s enough to stop the rising wave of panic. That’s twice in one night she’s used her old nickname for him. Maybe opening up over the phone is easier for her too, he muses. 

“MacKenzie.”

“Are-“ she hesitates, trails off. Will doesn’t say anything, gives her the time she needs to gather her thoughts. “Are you proud? Of the show, I mean.”

This is maybe the last thing he had been expecting her to ask but that doesn’t mean he has to think before answering. 

“Yes,” he says quietly. “So fucking proud.”

“Okay,” she says in a soft murmur, but he can tell from her voice that she’s fighting a grin, can picture her chewing on her bottom lip, eyes bright and warm. 

“Are you?” He asks, voice lower than he intended. 

“What?” She sounds almost indignant and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes. “Of course I am.”

“Alright,” he says softly, voice barely more than a murmur. 

“Alright,” she says around a yawn, followed by a huff of laughter. “Good night, Will,” she says warmly. 

“Night, Mac.”

.

MacKenzie appears in his office the next morning, leaning against the doorway with a small smile, hands behind her back. 

“Good morning.”

“Morning.” Will glances at the clock in a brief panic - it wouldn’t be the first time she’s has to find him five minutes into a meeting. He visibly relaxes when he sees it’s still ten to, and Mac laughs. 

“You’re not late. This time.” She pushes off the doorframe, still smiling, and walks over to his desk. “I have something for you.”

He furrows his brows. “You do?”

Mac stops in front of his desk, one hand still behind her back, the other on her hip. She let’s out a huff of laughter at the look on his face. “Close your eyes.”

Immediately suspicious, he raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

She sighs loudly, a pout forming and he squeezes his eyes shut with an equally loud sigh of his own. For all the uncertainty surrounding their current relationship, there’s a reason he’d been in love from day one, and a reason she can get him to do pretty much anything she asks. Even now, it seems. 

Something lands on his desk with a thump and he startles, jumping back in his chair as his eyes open in alarm. MacKenzie laughs affectionately, a delighted giggle that has her covering her mouth with her hands. Will grumbles something about surprises and loud noises but his heart’s not really in it. Probably because his heart is currently pounding tightly at the way Mac is beaming down at him. He’s smiling too, and he’s starting to realise just how miserable he’s been for the past three years, because no one’s made him smile like MacKenzie. And this whole thing would be a hell of a lot easier if he could just forgive her. But he still can’t look at her without thinking about Brian, without remembering the utter betrayal and heartbreak he felt (still feels) when she had told him. So he lets himself smile with her and he laughs at her jokes, but he can’t give her more than that. Doesn’t think he has anything more to give. 

Mac ducks her head, worries her bottom lip between her teeth. And he realises they’ve been staring at each other in silence and he should probably say something. He looks down at his desk, letting out a genuine laugh when he sees what she’s brought him. 

“You finished it,” he says, reaching for the book and flicking through the first couple of pages. 

“I was up all night,” she admits with a laugh, leans against his desk with her hip. “So if I crash this afternoon-“

“I’ll ply you with coffee,” he assures her. Realising it never occurred to him to question her sudden Quixotic mission, he motions to the book. “Where did you get this anyway?” 

She hesitates for half a second before crossing her arms over her chest and telling him almost defensively, “Charlie gave it to me.”

“Charlie gave you a copy of _Don Quixote_ ,” he says slowly, a frown forming on his face. 

MacKenzie shrugs. “How else do you think he convinced me to take the job?”

Will thinks back to the conversation he’d had with Charlie after Mac’s first show, when he’d still been convinced he could never work with her, that he never wanted to see her again. Of course Charlie is the one who put the idea in her head; it explains how he had known about Will and Mac’s earlier conversation. 

_I’m Don Quixote, you can be Sancho, she’ll be Dulcinea._ Although he’s still not convinced that Charlie is Don Quixote, especially if Mac is his Dulcinea.

Leaving the book on his desk, Will stands and comes around until he is beside her. Before he can talk himself out of it, he rests his hand on the small of her back to guide her to the door. 

“Come on, Dulcinea,” he says with a fond roll of his eyes. “Or we’ll both be late today.”

He pretends not to notice the pleased smile on her face. Or the way her cheeks are still tinged with red when she starts the rundown meeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should say that the idea for Will having never actually read Don Quixote came from a post on reddit. Someone listed every time Will had referenced Don Quixote and compared it to the book and musical and the majority of his references/quotes came from the musical, and it's established more than once that Will is a big fan of musical theatre. And having read Don Quixote myself, I was pretty convinced lol. Thanks again for reading!


	3. a little is alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it’s only fitting that, after three years and three different war zones, now she’s the one getting her heart broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy! and thanks for the wonderful response to chapter 2!!

She’s waiting for him in his office after the broadcast and he thinks he shouldn’t really be surprised at this point. She’s leaning back in his desk chair, ankles crossed on the corner of the desk, flicking through the file Maggie had left for him earlier. One of her heels is dangling precariously from her foot and it’s incredibly distracting, so Will chooses instead to focus on the glass of scotch she has poured herself. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he says, doing a double take at the door. “I thought this was my office.”

Mac doesn’t say anything. Tilts her head and watches him for a moment. And he hates that she’s still the most attractive women he’s ever seen, hates that she can still make him feel like this. Why else would he be going out with different women every night if not to distract himself from his increasingly complex relationship with his ex-girlfriend? Okay, not every night. And, if he’s being honest, he’s given up on dating for the moment. It wasn’t worth the effort, especially when he knew going in that they wouldn’t make it past dessert, and it definitely wasn’t worth the wounded looks Mac would give him whenever he had his dates meet him after the show. 

Will removes his jacket, is unknotting his tie when she speaks. 

“Do you remember that night you came over?” “You mean -“ he trails off, drops his hands to his side, tie forgotten. Mac rolls her eyes fondly. 

“The night I had a panic attack, yes.” Swinging her legs down and placing her feet back on the floor, she leans forward in her seat. “That was when I knew Sloan was wrong.”

Will lowers himself into one of the seats across from her, helps himself to her drink. 

“Sloan is wrong about a lot of things,” he says. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“I’m telling her you said that,” Mac tells him, ignores his protests when she reaches over and takes the glass out his hand. Leaning back in her seat, she takes a drink. “She thought you were an arse. They all did. I was so desperate to prove them wrong, and then I thought, _well maybe he is_.” 

She shrugs, tucks her hair behind her ear - a pointless endeavour as her bangs fall down to cover her face straightaway anyway. She tries again, wrinkles her nose as the exact same happens once more. She shakes her head, seemingly giving up on taming her hair for the moment, and Will almost forgets to respond. 

“I was,” he admits, voice low and unsure. “For a while. It was, um, after you left.” He gestures at her vaguely, awkwardly clears his throat, eyes focused on the glass in front of him. “What made you change your mind?”

She considers him for a moment, unsure if he’d appreciate her honesty or if it’ll send him running for the hills. 

“Mac?” Will leans forward, hands clasped on the desk in front of him, and the look of curiosity and concern he is giving her makes the decision for her. She figures if she’s going to start actively trying to gain his forgiveness then 100% upfront honesty is a good place to start. She sits forward now, body language mirroring his. 

“When you came over to take care of me,” Mac tells him, a soft smile on her face as she remembers how it felt to fall asleep beside him. “You read to me until I fell asleep and I could see some of the old Will, how you used to be before I ruined everything.” She’s frowning now. Will reaches over and places his hand over hers. 

“How have - are you doing okay?” He asks, eyes still full of concern. 

She gives a half shrug. “Some days are better than others.”

Will sits back now, and she instantly misses the feel of his hand on hers, wants to reach out for him. But she doesn’t, figures she needs to take baby steps or he might freak out.

He completely surprises her, however, when he leans forward once more and says in a low voice, “You can talk to me, you know. Or call me or whatever. If you need to.”

MacKenzie bites her bottom lip to keep from smiling, reaches over to squeeze his hand before she can overthink it. “Thanks, Billy.”

As she’s about to pull away, he turns his hand over under hers and laces their fingers together. She can feel her cheeks warm under his gaze but she doesn’t look away, and neither does he. His thumb is gently stroking the back of her hand, his blue eyes watching her in a way that makes her feel inexplicably warm and sad at the same time, and it’s all too much. 

Mac clears her throat, slowly pulls her hand back. (She’s not entirely sure if she imagines the brief look of disappointment that crosses Will’s face.) “I’ll keep that in mind next time my therapist complains when I phone her at two in the morning,” she jokes weakly. 

“You’re seeing a therapist?” And he doesn’t sound like he’s asking out of pity or because he wants all the gory details of her time embedded; he genuinely sounds like he cares, like maybe he’s starting to hate her slightly less. 

“Every Wednesday morning,” she supplies with a slight shrug and a self-deprecating smile. “All things considered, coming home with PTSD and a stab wound was the best I could’ve hoped for,” she jokes, trying to make light of the situation. The waver in her voice gives her away. Will blanches, and she feels self-conscious as his gaze drops to her abdomen, has to stop herself from covering the scar with her hand, as though if he looked hard enough he could see it through her shirt. 

“MacKenzie,” he murmurs, more of a breath than anything, a look of unease on his face as he takes a moment to digest what she’s told him. He clears his throat, looks up at her. “Are you - um, are you taking anything?”

Mac drains her scotch, focuses on the television behind Will’s head, briefly distracted by Jane Barrow’s unbearably smug face. 

“Mac?”

Picking up the remote, she turns the screen off before meeting his gaze. “No,” she says plainly. 

Will frowns, taps his fingers on the desk before reaching for his cigarettes and lighting one. “Should you be?”

The answer to his question is a resounding yes. Her medicine cabinet is full of orange pill bottles; she’s been prescribed anti-anxiety meds, anti-depressants, sleeping pills. Each with their own not so pleasant side effects that definitely outweigh their benefits. The only one she takes semi-regularly is Xanax and that’s only because her nightmare induced panic attacks are still fairly frequent. Less so than when she first came home, but enough that she’s still plastering on make-up to cover the bags under her eyes some mornings.

“Will.” Her voice low and gentle, she waits for him to meet her eyes once more before she continues, “I’m okay. Or I will be. I’m getting there.”

Mac can tell he doesn’t quite believe her but he also knows her well enough to discern that she no longer wants to talk about this. And she’s beyond grateful when he simply nods and asks her what she thought of the show. 

Will gets up mid-conversation, goes into the bathroom to change. She can’t help but smile when he leaves the door ajar so he can still hear her. He comes out wearing dark jeans and a nicer shirt than he’d been wearing earlier. 

“Are you coming to Hang Chew’s?” MacKenzie asks, certain she already knows the answer. Will, who had been reaching for his jacket, hesitates briefly before turning to face her.

“I, uh - I have plans,” he falters.

And MacKenzie’s reminded once more that he’s dating. That he’s actively moving on from her. Not that she should’ve expected him to still have feelings for her three years later, especially not after she tore out his heart and stomped all over it. So it’s only fitting that, after three years and three different war zones, now she’s the one getting her heart broken. 

“Well, have fun,” she says loudly, her attempts at cheerful coming across as manic. She stands, smoothing out non-existent wrinkles in her skirt before making her way to the door, past a very confused looking Will. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait.” One hand on the door handle, she stops but doesn’t look at him. Her eyes are welling up and a lump is forming in her throat and she will not cry in front of Will McAvoy. Especially when she has no real claim to him. “My sister’s in town,” he blurts out, doesn’t know why he’s so unsettled by the thought of MacKenzie thinking he has a date tonight when all he’s been doing is throwing his dates in her face. “I told her I would meet her for drinks after the show.”

MacKenzie lets out a watery laugh, doesn’t turn around until she is sure her tears have dissipated. “You don’t want to take her to Hang Chew’s?”

“And buy her watered down cocktails and tuna jerky? I’d never hear the end of it.” He laughs as he pulls his jacket on, starts shoving things in his briefcase.  
Mac watches him, bottom lip tucked between her teeth. 

“I need to grab my coat and purse. From my office. Then we could head out together,” she offers, aiming for casual, landing somewhere between terrified and hopeful. Will doesn’t seem to mind. 

They head to her office, where he helps her into her coat, places her purse gently on her arm, then to the elevators. They’re standing side by side in a comfortable silence, and this Mac can deal with, but she doesn’t know what to make of Will’s soft smiles and gentle touches and it’s driving her crazy. She glances up at him only to find him already looking at her. Wrinkling her nose, she smiles softly, aware that she’s blushing. 

The elevator doors open and Will ushers her in, again with his hand on her back, stands beside her so their shoulders are brushing. 

“Which sister?” Mac asks suddenly, desperate to break the tension. “If it’s Katie tell her I say hi; she still sends me Christmas cards. Laura, however, sent me at least three scathing emails.”

“She did not,” he says. “Did she?”

Shrugging, MacKenzie looks down at her feet, voice barely above a murmur. “Well, she wasn’t wrong.”

Will freezes up, like he always does when the conversation turns to their past or her cheating or his inability to forgive her. 

“It’s Katie,” he says eventually. “She’s in D.C for work and she drove up to the city for a night.”

The elevator comes to a stop, doors opening to the ground floor. 

“That’s nice of her,” Mac says as they walk through the lobby. “I couldn’t tell you the last time my brother visited.”

It’s not really a lie. He had visited her in the hospital after she had been stabbed. Him and her parents. And she had been so stoned on morphine that she barely remembers it. But she really doesn’t remember the last time she saw him before that, makes a mental note to call him, and her parents. Maybe she’ll go to London for Christmas. 

They come to a stop outside the AWN building, aware that they’re both headed in opposite directions. 

MacKenzie ducks her head, looking up at him through her bangs. 

“Have a nice night,” she says softly. 

Will nods, tilts his head slightly before reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. Before his hand drops, he gently runs the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone. Mac catches his hand as he lowers it, tangles their fingers together. Will steps closer now and she’s so sure he’s going to kiss her, can feel his breath on her face as he gets closer, and her eyes start to flutter closed. 

And then there’s a burst of loud laughter behind them and they jump apart. 

It’s Don, Elliot and Sloan because isn’t that just her fucking luck?

“Hey,” Sloan greets, seemingly oblivious to what they’ve just interrupted. Don, on the other hand, is looking between the two of them curiously. Even Elliot seems to realise that they interrupted something. “You guys were working late. Are you coming to Hang Chew’s?”

Will, eyes dark and cheeks flushed in a way that MacKenzie knows only she will be able to notice, shakes his head and takes another step back. “I have plans.”

“Oh. _Oh_.” Sloan narrows her eyes at him before turning to MacKenzie sympathetically and linking their arms. “Come on, Kenzie. Don’s buying shots.”

“It’s Wednesday,” Mac says with a frown, eyes still on Will. 

“Have a good night,” Will tells them, chuckling at the pleading look Mac sends him. 

“Yeah, whatever.” Sloan waves him off. “Try not to end up on Page Six,” she mutters under her breath, or at least MacKenzie thinks that’s what she says. She’s distracted thinking about Will and how he’d definitely been about to kiss her. She can't help but wonder what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted. 

Mac stops right in the doorway for Hang Chew’s, barely notices when Don walks right into her. She turns back, eyes searching the street for Will, only to find him standing in the exact same spot, watching her with an awestruck look on his face. 

.

Mac’s in a good enough mood that she lets Don and Sloan ply her with shots all night, stumbling into a cab sometime after two. She pulls out her Blackberry and texts Will before she can overthink it. 

_GoOd nigjt,?_

The thing is, she can see the typos but she’s drunk enough that she really doesn’t care. And she’s very much aware that trying to fix them will just lead to more typos. So she hits send, grinning widely when his response is instant. 

_I see someone let herself get talked into shots after all._

_Peer pressure_. She types out carefully. Then: _Please be ice to me in th morning_

_Aren’t I always?_ He responds followed by three emojis that she can’t quite make out in her drunken haze. But she knows that Maggie had been the one to show him how to use them and it makes her smile nonetheless.

_Goodnight Will_. She adds an emoji of her own, and it’s either a smile or a wink but, again, she’s very drunk. 

His response is a series of emojis that she’ll decipher in the morning (then make fun of him for). But she can tell there’s a heart somewhere in his message, even without her glasses.

.

Will doesn’t mention their almost kiss when he walks into her office the next morning. But he does bring her a coffee and a bagel, both of which she accepts with a grateful smile. He sits across from her as she eats and, without prompting, tells her about dinner with his sister, that he’s considering flying out to see his family for Christmas (they both know he won’t; it’s been years since he was last in Nebraska). There’s a comfortable ease to their conversation, the light back and forth feeling all too familiar. 

And Mac decides that she, too, can look past their almost kiss if it means they’re on their way to becoming friends again.


	4. tired and wired, we ruin too easily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Then comes the fight they should have seen coming. It really shouldn’t be a surprise to either of them, despite their recent truce, but it somehow completely blindsides them both. And the tentative friendship they’ve built comes crashing down around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, me again! I don't know why but I've kinda been nervous about posting this chapter bc it feels tonally different to what I usually write (at least to me lol) so pls be nice to me and I really hope you enjoy! and thanks as always to everyone who has been reading so far and to everyone who left comments/kudos!

Being friends with Will is something Mac is figuring out as she goes. They’ve never really been friends, even before. He had asked her out maybe two days after meeting her and she had accepted without hesitation. So she’s figuring it out. And she thinks they’re kind of nailing it. They go out for drinks once or twice a week (sometimes to Hang Chew’s, sometimes to somewhere they know the rest of the staff won’t be) and they’ve started eating lunch together every so often, usually in one of their offices, but Will has, at least twice, taken her to lunch at the falafel place down the street that they both love. 

All in all, being friends with Will is easy and natural. And somewhat bittersweet. But MacKenzie does her best to look past her feelings for him, beyond grateful that he no longer hates her, and completely unwilling to do anything that might jeopardise that. 

Then comes the fight they should have seen coming. It really shouldn’t be a surprise to either of them, despite their recent truce, but it somehow completely blindsides them both. And the tentative friendship they’ve built comes crashing down around them. 

It starts like it always does. Will thinks a story from the D block should actually be in the A block and Mac thinks he’s being an idiot. They’ve managed to stay civil thus far, Mac all too aware of all the times that Sloan has reminded her their offices are not soundproof, but when she reminds Will that she’s the EP and she knows what she’s doing, asks him to trust her, and his response is a sarcastic, “because that’s worked out so well in the past”, she kind of loses it in the way only he seems to be able to make happen. 

“Oh, you have got to get over that,” she cries, throwing her arms up in annoyance. “You can’t bring it up every time we disagree about something.”

Will freezes, and she recognises the look on his face, knows she’s made a mistake. But before she can apologise or take it back, he’s standing in front of her, looking her directly in the eyes. 

“When I met you,” he says coolly, “I thought I’d found the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with. So you’ll forgive me if I can’t just get over it.” 

He raises his voice at the end, turns away from her angrily and MacKenzie can feel her own indignation rising, her shoulders tense as she clenches her jaw. She’s sick and tired of pretending that Will is the only one hurting. That, up until a few weeks ago, she hadn’t been silently enduring punishment after punishment from him. 

“Do you think I didn’t want that too?” And now she’s yelling too, pacing his office and throwing her arms in the air as she finally lets out what she’s been holding onto for three years. “The wedding, the babies, the happily ever after. I wanted all of that. With you.”

“Then why did you tell me?” Will shouts back, turning to slam his hand onto his desk. 

And now she’s really frustrated. They’ve had this conversation a hundred times and, no matter what he says, she never could’ve lived with herself had she kept the truth from him. He’s pacing too now, and it’s just adding to her fury. Reminding her that since the moment she stepped foot in the ACN building, he’s been looking for reason after reason to stay angry with her. And that, no matter how close they’ve become in recent weeks, as soon as the conversation turns serious Will clams up and she has to work twice as hard to get them back on even ground. 

“Because that’s what people do when they’re in a serious relationship!” Mac stamps her feet, clenches her fists tightly, anything to stop herself from throwing something across the room. Or hitting him. “They tell each other the goddamn truth and work through it together.”

Will comes to a sudden stop, turns to her with a look of disbelief. 

“You’re the one who left,” he shouts, and he’s pointing at her, which she _knows_ he knows she hates. 

“You kicked me out,” she snaps, pushing his hand away. They’re face to face now, both breathing heavily and seething with rage, and Mac vaguely recalls a time when an argument like this would have ended very differently. She briefly wonders what he would do if she did kiss him, decides she’s too angry with him to find out. “You weren’t answering any of my calls, you were completely ignoring me at work. What was I supposed to think?”

The door opens but neither of them turn around, both too wrapped up in each other, this argument that they really should’ve seen coming, to even glance in the direction of the unlucky person who’s been sent to break up their fight. Will looks like he is about to say something so Mac steps closer to him, stops him before he even has a chance to open his mouth. 

“You checked out first,” she accuses harshly. “Not me.”

And it’s only when she registers Sloan’s hand on her arm, Sloan’s voice gently saying, “Come on, Kenzie. Let’s go.”, that she realises what’s just happened, realises how much she’s fucked up, that she doesn’t know how they’re going to come back from this. 

MacKenzie feels her whole body deflate, gives in to Sloan as she tries to gently guide her out the room. She stops in the doorway, however. Turns back to Will who hasn’t moved an inch, his body radiating tension. 

“I loved you, Billy,” she says, so soft it comes out in a choked whisper. “More than anything. And you weren’t willing to fight for that.”

Mac doesn’t miss the way everyone frantically looks away as Sloan drags her through the bullpen. This isn’t the first fight that’s gotten out of hand but it’s definitely the worst one they’ve had, especially considering that they usually manage to maintain the facade of arguing about work. 

“You okay, Kenzie?” Sloan asks when they get to Mac’s office. She closes the door, turns to Mac who has perched against the edge of her desk, staring blankly ahead through tear-filled eyes. “Did I forget to tell you that the glass isn’t soundproof?

She laughs at this, only slightly mortified when it turns into a loud sob. Her shoulders start to shake and her breaths are coming in short gasps, but she can’t stop. She brings her hands up to cover her face as she just sobs. Sloan seems to get over her initial shock and uncertainty (She’s never been good with tears. Or emotion.) and pulls her into a hug. Doesn’t even comment on the tears that are definitely staining the shirt she is supposed to be wearing on air. 

.

The next three days are excruciating. It’s clear Mac and Will aren’t speaking, even to those who somehow managed to miss their explosive argument. All the staff are afraid to approach either of them; Mac looks on the verge of tears 80% of the time (the other 20% she looks ready to kill someone), and Will looks like someone kicked his damn puppy. Things get so bad that Charlie calls them both to his office to ask them what the fuck is going on down there. And they both just kind of shrug and tell him there’s nothing to worry about. It’s clear he doesn’t believe them, but he sends them on their way anyway, grumbling something about stubborn idiots and wasting time. 

So there’s a terrible tension in the air, and the only people who can fix it are Will and Mac, the two most stubborn people in the newsroom. 

Rundown meetings are especially tense, and every time Will looks like he’s gearing up for an argument, he just settles back and nods glumly. Which is somehow worse than all the arguing. If not just because every time he does this MacKenzie lets out a deflated sigh and turns away, shoulders slumped. 

By the end of Friday’s final rundown meeting, everyone is desperate for the weekend to come and too nervous to pitch ideas for the show thanks to Martin and Kendra being snapped at by Will and Mac respectively. Granted, they had both looked extremely apologetic, but this had just added to the already unbearable tension that has been building all week. 

“Uh, Mac,” Neal says tentatively, fidgeting with the file in front of him as he looks between her and Will. 

Mac leans on the desk with one hand, brings the other up to rub her eyes. She lets out a long sigh before dropping her hand and smiling wearily at him. “Yes, Neal?”

“Actually, it doesn’t matter.”

She frowns at this, her shoulders slumping slightly. “What is it?”

Neal looks at her hesitantly, then leans forward, suddenly enthused. “I got an email,” he begins. He flicks through the sheets in front of him until he finds what he’s looking for. “This guy, Jacob something, he and his girlfriend were staking out Area 51 - just for a joke, he said. Anyway-“

“Okay,” Mac says loudly, a hint of desperation in her voice. “I’m going to meet with graphics.”

She’ll apologise to Neal later. Listen to the rest of his pitch even though she’s told him repeatedly that News Night will air a story about aliens and Bigfoot over her mangled, rotting corpse. (She’d been feeling dramatic at the time. Whatever.)

.

The show doesn’t get off to a great start. Will is tense and he trips over his words a couple of times and Mac knows that snapping in his ear won’t help but she’s really struggling to hold it in. The relief she feels when they cut to break is belied slightly by the guilt she feels at the way Will’s shoulders slump as he glances at the monitor with sad eyes. 

Several times throughout the show Mac finds herself sighing loudly into her headset, apology on the tip of her tongue, until someone distracts her with a question or Will responds with an equally loud sigh of his own, his brow furrowed as though he’s about to speak. And then he won’t, just shakes his head and presses his lips together. And Mac’s left wondering how long they’ll be stuck in this awkward limbo, waiting for the other too apologise while being too stubborn (or scared) to do it first. 

The bullpen has emptied out by the time she leaves the control room, only Maggie left, who gives her an awkward wave and practically sprints out the room, jacket thrown over her arm and backpack still unzipped. MacKenzie doesn’t blame her. Doesn’t blame any of them for not hanging around a minute longer than they had to. Not this week. God, she owes the staff a massive apology, cringes when she thinks about how terrible this week must have been for them. Maggie in particular, who had somehow become the go-between for Mac and Will, passing on notes and messages (and a couple of thinly veiled passive aggressive comments).

MacKenzie looks between her computer and her coat, debating whether she should work late to distract from her current loneliness and anguish, or if she should go home and wallow in despair and red wine. Mind made up, she reaches for her coat, startling slightly when she notices Will standing in the doorway, an unreadable look on his face. Mac turns to face him, crosses her arms over her chest. 

He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t look away either. And Mac is certain her cheeks are flushing under the intensity of his gaze. 

“Will?” She murmurs, not quite willing to break the quiet tension that has overcome them, yet impatient enough that she is on the verge of letting out a frustrated huff. He’s the one who came to her office, and for what - to stare at each other in silence all night? She tilts her head, lower lip tucked between her teeth. Will continues to look at her, face still blank, but she’s certain he glances to her lips, to the curve of her neck, back to her lips. 

Now she does let out an annoyed huff, shaking her head just as he pushes off the doorframe, crosses the room in two strides and —

“Will, what are you-“

He cuts her off. Or, to be more specific, his mouth cuts her off. His mouth on hers as his hands frame her face. And she can feel the slight smile on his lips as she lets out a surprised yelp. Then he moves one hand to her hair, the other now splayed across her back as he holds her close. MacKenzie lets her eyes flutter closed, brings her own hands up to clutch at his shoulders as he nips at her bottom lip before deepening the kiss. And she would be embarrassed about the quiet whimper that escapes her lips if she could focus on anything other than Will. His body solid against hers; his mouth warm and incessant; the way his hands are clutching her so tight she wouldn’t be surprised if he left fingerprints. 

She murmurs his name - _Billy_ \- soft and sweet, nails scratching lightly at the nape of his neck and, just like that, he stops. 

He doesn’t pull away just yet, rests his forehead against hers, eyes closed as he catches his breath. Mac brings her hand around to cup his face, gently runs the pad of her thumb along his jawline. She’s desperate to kiss him again but terrified to make any sudden movements. Reaching up to cover her hand with his, Will turns his head slightly and kisses her palm before he steps back.

“Good show,” is all he says, voice low and uneven, nodding slightly before walking out the door. 

MacKenzie chews on her bottom lip, brows furrowed as she tries to register what’s just happened. Takes maybe thirty seconds for her to respond, faintly calling after him, “the show was terrible.”

But he’s long gone and she has no idea what the fuck this means for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! and please don't hate me after this lol I promise there'll be a happy ending. I've just been thinking a lot how it got to a point where Will did as much to hurt Mac as she did him but he was barely held accountable and Mac definitely deserved to get much angrier than she did


	5. i'd make wine from your tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So he stops speaking to her. And it does nothing to assuage his guilt, but at least, when he's only seeing her during rundown meetings, rather than the usual twelve hours a day they spend together, there isn’t a constant reminder of how much he inadvertently hurt her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all your lovely comments on the last chapter! the response was better than I could've ever imagined😭🥰 I think we are nearing the end, maybe one more chapter after this, two at the most we shall see.  
> thanks for sticking with me and hope you all enjoy this chapter too!

Will’s being an ass. He knows this, is fully aware that MacKenzie deserves more than stilted silences and him fleeing to his office anytime she enters a room. But he doesn’t know how to stop. Doesn’t know how to go back to the way things were knowing that he’s the reason she had sent herself to a war zone. He’d been feeling guilty enough after she offhandedly told him about her PTSD diagnosis, had wanted to be there for her, to support her and be her friend, as hard as that had been for him. And they had been friends, had built up a trusting, platonic relationship that meant more to him than he’d ever admit. She had somehow gotten through the barriers he had so desperately put up when he first saw her standing in the newsroom (when he really thinks about it, he isn’t entirely sure if she came crashing through or if he let her in), and he had even reached the stage where he’d been actively trying to forgive her, thinks he might have actually forgiven her months ago without realising. 

And then she’d all but told him he’d been the reason she’d embedded, and the guilt and the shame and the anxiety had been too much to cope with. 

_You checked out first_ , she had said. And it’s true. He always wondered if she had told him about Brian to break up with him. But he’d been the one to break up with her. She had fought for him, for them. He has nearly three years worth of unread emails that prove this. 

So he stops speaking to her. And it does nothing to assuage his guilt, but at least, when he's only seeing her during rundown meetings, rather than the usual twelve hours a day they spend together, there isn’t a constant reminder of how much he inadvertently hurt her. 

And part of him is angry with MacKenzie for making it so difficult to hate her. Okay, he never actually hated her, as much as he had been reluctant to work with her again, wary of trusting her, when she first came to work at ACN, all too scared of getting his heart broken again. But it was a hell of a lot easier to pretend he did when all he knew of her time embedded was that it won her two Peabody’s and garnered her immense recognition and respect from pretty much everyone in the news business. Himself included. But, no - PTSD and a stab wound is what she had said, trying - and failing - to make a joke of it. And he knows he’s being ridiculous, that she made the decision to go by herself, but he’s almost certain she never would have gone had he heard her out, given her time to explain, let himself forgive her. 

By Friday, Will is tired. Tired of trying to stay mad at MacKenzie, tired of pretending he doesn’t miss her. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he just needs time. How much time, he couldn’t say. But he’s already halfway in love with her again so he figures it won’t be much. Then he thinks that maybe he should just set her free, that it’s not fair to expect her to wait for him to get over all his bullshit, that maybe she’d be happier if he just let her move on. That maybe they’d both be happier as friends. 

Of course, he ruins this by kissing her. He hadn’t planned it, had only been intending to talk to her, to broach the subject of their friendship. He should probably apologise for being an ass, too. But when he finds her after the show, and she’s looking at him with soft, sparkling eyes, biting her lip the way he loves, he can’t help himself. 

She kisses him back he’s pleased to note. Lips as warm and soft as he remembers, hands grasping at his shoulders as she pushes up slightly on her tiptoes. She whimpers softly, a sound he spent three years trying to forget, and he holds her closer. It’s only when she murmurs his name that he thinks this may have been a bad idea. Not quite ready to let her go, he rests his forehead against hers, trying desperately to rememorize the feel of her against him. Not that he ever managed to forget it in the first place. 

Mac cups his face and Will, heart pounding furiously in his chest, thinks he might pass out purely from being this close to her, this intimate. He kisses her palm, doesn’t miss the way her lips turn up at the side. And then, because he’s a fucking coward, he walks away. 

Spends the entire weekend sitting by the phone, staring at her number on the screen. He isn’t able to work up the nerve to press the call button and, by Monday, he’s completely overthought everything and questioned his entire relationship with MacKenzie to the point where he has apparently forgotten any form of human interaction and wouldn’t blame her at all for leaving him and ACN without a second thought. 

.

Despite spending the entire weekend staring at her phone and willing Will to call, while being too cowardly to call him herself, Monday morning comes all too quickly. MacKenzie barely sleeps on Sunday night, too busy trying to imagine the level of awkwardness she is going to have to manoeuvre at work. That doesn’t stop her, however, from getting up early and, so what if she spends a little longer than usual getting ready, choosing an outfit that she knows is going to drive Will crazy? Kissing her on Friday showed that he is definitely still attracted to her, why wouldn’t she use this to her advantage?

She doesn’t see him before the rundown meeting. Which is unlike anything she has ever experienced. It seems that Will has moved on from completely ignoring her existence and avoiding her at all costs to being overbearingly polite and speaking to her the way one would a distant relative they hadn’t seen in years. And she’s honestly not sure which one she prefers. Especially when, after pulling out her seat for her at the start of the meeting, then asking her to repeat something _please_ , if she wouldn’t mind, he literally raises his hand to offer a counter argument. Which, no matter how hard Mac tries to rile him up, he won’t take the bait. 

She just about loses her shit when he leans back in his chair with a shrug and tells her, “I respect your opinion.”

She doesn’t even try to hide the look of complete and utter confusion as she looks at him, brow furrowed, mouth agape.

Even the staff seem to notice something is up. Maggie is regarding Will with concern; Jim is giving Mac a look that tells her he suspects that something has happened; Tess flat out guffaws when Will calls MacKenzie _ma’am_. Which would, admittedly, be hilarious under any other circumstance. But not when Will is seriously considering Neal’s Area 51 story (that she’d suggested putting in the B block to test him) just because he wants to avoid an argument. 

By Wednesday Mac thinks she’s going to lose it. She really thought that Will would have given up with whatever he’s been trying to prove by Tuesday at the latest. But he hadn’t, has kept it up all week. It’s reaching the point where Mac doesn’t know if they’ll ever have a normal conversation again and she really doesn’t know how to fix this. And she also doesn’t know why she should be the one to fix it. He kissed her. He should be the one trying to make things right. Although, maybe she’s being so stubborn about this because she’s not entirely sure she wants to find out where he wants to go from here. 

It’s Gary’s birthday. Supposedly. Mac’s pretty sure he’s already celebrated a birthday this year but he’s luring everyone down to Hang Chews with the promise of champagne and cake, and who is she to turn down champagne and cake? So they all head down after the show, with the exception of the ten o’clock crew who will join them after. 

Mac’s surprised to see Will has joined them. He’s sitting in a corner booth with Martin and Tess, debating the merits of college football from what she can hear. And she’s about to head over and join them when she remembers how unbearably awkward things have been. So she heads to the bar instead, orders a red wine before going to sit with Sloan in the seat Kendra has just vacated.  
“Look what I got,” Sloan says in lieu of greeting, eyes sparkling in a way that suggests Mac has some catching up to do. Sloan holds up a bottle of champagne, motions to a big slab of chocolate cake on the table in front of her. “Want some?” 

She doesn’t wait for an answer before pouring two glasses, ignoring Mac’s protests. “I don’t think mixing red wine and champagne is a bad thing.” Sloan says with a shrug. “Besides, it’s not everyday Gary turns whatever age he’s turning.”

MacKenzie gives in without much protest, if only because she can see Will standing at the bar now. And this weird limbo they’re in at the moment is more painful than when he hated her. At least then she knew where she stood, there hadn’t been any false hope or lingering glances. So she drains her glass in two gulps, puts it in front of Sloan so she can pour more. 

“Alright,” Sloan exclaims cheerfully. “Happy birthday, Gary.”

It only takes two more drinks before Will’s name comes up. Mac thinks this is quite impressive considering she hasn’t stopped staring at him all night. 

“Am I pathetic?” She asks Sloan, leaning forward with a loud sigh, body slumped over the table. 

Sloan looks at her warily. 

“Do you mean at this exact moment or in general?”

Mac lets out an annoyed huff before shrugging her shoulders and dropping her head into her hands. 

“For thinking Will might ever love me again.” She says quietly, teeth tugging at her bottom lip as she purposely avoids Sloan’s gaze. Sloan frowns slightly, brings her glass to her mouth as she considers her response. 

“Sorry,” Mac says quickly. She sits up and reaches for her own glass. “I don’t know why I asked you that. Just forget-“

“Kenzie,” Sloan interrupts, turning to face her fully now. She leans forward, or maybe falls forward is more accurate, and reaches for Mac’s hand. “I think Will would be an idiot if he didn’t love you.”

Smiling softly at Sloan, Mac lets her gaze travel back to Will. He’s sitting with Maggie and Neal now, fully engrossed in whatever story Maggie is telling. Sometimes MacKenzie really wishes she didn’t love him as much as she does, that she could just move on and forget how it feels to be with him. That she really could just be his friend.

“He kissed me,” she says softly, bottom lip tucked between her teeth. And she doesn’t know what made her say it, hadn’t planned on telling anyone. But Sloan is her best friend and maybe it will help. 

“What?”

“On Friday.” She shrugs one shoulder, let’s out a small laugh. “He kissed me in my office after the show.”

And hasn’t spoken to her since. (She’s not counting their bizarre interactions from this week.)

“Okay, so what now?”

“Now I’m just waiting for him to decide if he wants to do it again or pretend it never happened.”

And yes, she can see how that sounds pathetic. But Sloan just leans into her, meets her gaze with eyes that are glassy and slightly unfocused and asks, “what would you like to happen?”

Her question catches her off guard. She’s been so busy trying to gain Will’s forgiveness that she’s never stopped to let herself imagine what will actually happen once he does forgive her. Would they pick up where they left off all those years ago? Back when they were starting to discuss marriage and kids. Would they take things slow, go right back to the start? 

“Will knows how I feel about him,” is Mac’s response. Because he does, doesn’t he? There’s no way he could’ve missed the glaringly obvious signs, the longing looks, the lingering touches. A frown forms on her face as she starts to think, what if he’s just an idiot? Or worse, what if he doesn’t feel the same way? Maybe this whole time he’s been trying to let her down gently and she’s been too blinded by her own feelings to notice it. Will forgiving her doesn't necessarily mean he will want to be with her again. She thought she was giving him time and space to work out his feelings but -

“How long am I supposed to wait?” She murmurs, shoulders slumped as Sloan stops mid-sentence, tilts her head and looks at her with furrowed brows.

“Maybe he doesn’t know,” Sloan says with a shrug, reaching for the nearly empty bottle of champagne. She goes to pour more in each of their glasses but Mac waves her off, very much aware she is on the verge of becoming sad, mopey drunk. “Speaking from experience, men are idiots. If you want him to know you’re an option, you’re going to have to say something.”

MacKenzie’s eyes drift back to where Will is now heading to the bar. She knows Sloan is right but she has no idea how to approach the topic with him without sending him running. The last thing she wants is for them to go back to the almost non-existent relationship they’d had when she first came to News Night. Or worse, feel like she has to leave. 

And maybe all their problems could’ve been avoided in the first place if they’d just been better at communicating. If she’d told him about Brian as soon as it happened, if he’d let her explain, if he’d answered her calls, read her emails. If she’d told him she loved him as soon as she realised instead of waiting three months. Maybe then he’d have known she was as serious about him as he was her, that she would’ve married him if he’d asked. 

Sloan says something and stands up, but Mac doesn’t pay her any attention, too busy watching Will. The way he lets his shoulders slump now he is no longer surrounded by the staff, his brow furrowed as he leans against the bar, and he just looks so sad. It’s heartbreaking, really. And the thought that she did this to him, that she’s the reason he’s feeling this way, gives her the push that she needs to make her way over to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for ending on a cliffhanger of sorts but this chapter was getting really long and I'm still working on what happens next and really wanted to post something for you guys lol  
> Thanks for reading and I'll try to get the next chapter finished and posted at some point this week!


	6. and i'll keep your brittle heart warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacKenzie leans against the bar, body angled so she is facing him, bottom lip tucked under her teeth as she looks up at him. Will slides the glass across the bar, doesn’t take his eyes off her. Doesn’t know how long they stand there, just staring at each other, with equal looks of sadness and longing on their faces. 
> 
> Mac is first to look away, lowering her gaze to somewhere on his chest as she says, quiet and unsure, “I think we need to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, thanks for taking the time to read/comment - i'm glad you all seem to be enjoying so far! (turns out multi-chap fics are kinda stressful?) sorry this took slightly longer than planned but it's quite an important chapter so I really wanted to get it right lol. also, surprise - there's one more chapter after this! anyway, I really hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

She’s staring at him again. Will can feel her eyes on him, has barely been able to notice anything else all night. Had at least twice found himself accidentally ordering a drink for her before remembering they weren’t speaking and giving it to Tess instead. And yes, he’s well aware that it’s his fault they’re not speaking but every time he thinks he might go over and talk to her Jim starts a conversation about baseball or Kendra asks his opinion on something or Gary inexplicably challenges him to an arm wrestle. 

He’s at the bar now, thinks maybe he should just order her a drink. See what she says when he hands it to her. Before he can make up his mind, he notices her approaching him. Or maybe she just wants a drink. Either way, he panics and orders her a red wine (of course he knows what she’s drinking tonight, she’s not the only one who’s been sneaking glances across the crowded bar), and it’s served and paid for before she even reaches him. 

MacKenzie leans against the bar, body angled so she is facing him, bottom lip tucked under her teeth as she looks up at him. Will slides the glass across the bar, doesn’t take his eyes off her. Doesn’t know how long they stand there, just staring at each other, with equal looks of sadness and longing on their faces. 

Mac is first to look away, lowering her gaze to somewhere on his chest as she says, quiet and unsure, “I think we need to talk.”

Maybe it’s the way she says it, or maybe it’s the way she won’t meet his eyes. Whatever it is, he panics once more and blurts out, “It doesn’t have to mean anything.” 

Her eyes snap to his at this and he struggles to figure out what the look she is giving him means as he shrugs one shoulder and says, “It was just a kiss.” 

He regrets the words as soon as they’re out of his mouth, doesn’t even mean them. The two of them have so much history, so much of it unspoken and unresolved, that it could never be _just_ anything. But he can’t stop himself from speaking, trying desperately to come up with the solution that will cause the least amount of pain. (For her or for himself, he isn’t entirely sure.) 

“Can’t we just go back to the way things were?” Because maybe he could live with that, the weird limbo they've been existing in where they've been trying to maintain a friendship while ignoring the _more_ between them.

MacKenzie arches an eyebrow, asks coolly, “Do you mean when you were pretending to be my friend or the way you’ve been avoiding me this past week?” He opens his mouth to speak but Mac, annoyed and angry and hurt, cuts him off, punctuating her words with hand gestures as she speaks to him in a clipped tone. “Yes, I did a terrible thing. I’m sorry. How many more times do you want me to apologise?”

Will steps closer to her, has to stop himself from grabbing her arm. 

“That’s not-“ He falters, clears his throat before continuing, voice barely more than a mumble. “That’s not why I’ve been avoiding you.”

“What?”

Sighing loudly, he turns away from her now. Brings his glass to his lips and finishes his drink, wishes he could find the words to tell her that he’s been replaying their argument over and over in his head, that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her since the moment he saw her standing in the newsroom the day of the oil spill. 

That he’s loved her since the day he met her and doesn’t think he’ll ever stop. 

Will keeps his gaze firmly on the bottle display behind the bar when he speaks again. 

“You went into a war zone, MacKenzie.”

“Yes.”

“You almost died,” he chokes out, turning away completely so he can compose himself. After a minute, he turns back to her, jaw twitching imperceptibly as he sets his shoulders. 

Her hand lifts to her abdomen, subconsciously, he thinks, as she frowns and looks up at him. 

“I’m not following.”

Now he does reach for her, as though his hand resting lightly on her shoulder will help her understand. He lowers his head slightly, standing so close to her that he can feel the heat radiating from her body. 

“You went into a war zone,” he repeats. “And you never would’ve gone if-“ He stops, shakes his head slightly before continuing, voice now firm and even. “I should have given you the chance to explain. I shouldn’t have kicked you out and I shouldn’t have ignored your calls.”

Mac frowns slightly and chews thoughtfully on her bottom lip, clearly thinking through everything he has just told her. He probably shouldn’t be surprised when she pulls away, squirms out of his grasp. He doesn’t really know what he was expecting his words to incite, but it definitely wasn’t the look of outrage that is currently on her face. 

“You’re an idiot,” she says angrily, voice louder than intended. “For thinking for even a second that I blame you for any of this. I could have gone anywhere and I thought putting 6,000 miles between us was the only way to get over you. put in the transfer request, _I_ extended my contract twice. I’m the one that fucked everything up. You don’t get to take credit for this.” She gestures vaguely to her abdomen and he reaches for her without thinking, this time placing his hand on her waist, thumb gently running over the area he imagines her scar is. Wonders if he’ll ever get to see it. MacKenzie looks surprised, but her anger is fading and she doesn’t step away. Shrugging one shoulder, she lets out a shaky breath and says, voice small and uneven, “this was all me.”

And he’s not entirely convinced she’s still talking about the fallout of 26 months spent covering war zones. As much as she had, that day in his office, attributed the breakdown of their relationship to him, he knows all too well how easy it is to become consumed by the burden of someone else’s mistakes, how easy it is to accept blame and culpability. Knows the intricacies of MacKenzie’s guilt complex better than most. Just as she knows his. 

Mac seems to remember where they are, or maybe it’s Martin approaching the bar, drunkenly throwing his arm over Will’s shoulder and loudly announcing that he’s buying shots for everyone, because she steps back and his hand drops from her waist. 

“Mac, you want a shot?” Martin asks, somehow completely oblivious to the very palpable tension that has been building between them all week. 

“Oh, no thanks.” She answers without taking her eyes of Will, the look on her face unreadable. And he used to pride himself on being able to read her every expression. Every raised eyebrow, every quirk of her lips, every imperceptible twitch of her jaw. 

“You sure?” 

And Will almost wants to laugh at the baffled look on Martin’s face because when does MacKenzie ever turn down shots? But then she shakes her head, finishes her drink in two gulps before stepping even further away. 

“I’m going to go.”

“Mac. Wait.”

And of course he follows her. He would follow her anywhere (except a war zone apparently, and look how that turned out). She doesn’t stop, doesn’t reply, throwing out half-formed apologies as she pushes her way through the crowd. Will, desperate to reach her, isn’t as courteous. 

It’s raining. Big, heavy raindrops that bounce off the ground and Mac’s hair is already starting to curl as she stands at the edge of the sidewalk trying to hail a cab. 

“MacKenzie,” he tries again. And he’s horrified to see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes when she turns to him. “Fuck, Mac-“

“What do you want from me, Will?” She snaps, reaching up to wipe furiously at her eyes. “I can’t keep up with you, with this.” She steps towards him and, as though he is trying to prove her point for her, Will finds himself subconsciously reaching for her once more. “With _this_ ,” she repeats frustratedly, stepping back to the kerb and holding her hand out to flag down an approaching cab. “With the touches and the kissing, all the arguing. I come into work everyday and I don’t know if you’re going to flirt with me or yell at me.”

A taxi stops beside her and she reaches for the door handle, turning back when he calls her name. 

“ _MacKenzie_.” But he doesn’t know what to say. And maybe that’s part of the problem. He’s never been good at this, at opening up and talking about his feelings. He supposes he has his dad to thank for that. If he could tell her want he wants without backing down at the last minute, without letting it become another argument that hurts and wounds them both. Hell, if he could figure out what he wants in the first place. 

(He knows exactly what he wants. Has known for a while.)

“I can’t do this anymore,” Mac tells him with a shrug of her shoulders and a sad smile that tells him she knew he wouldn’t be able to give her more. “And — I, I’m just tired Will. 

Before he can overthink it, Will ushers her into the cab and climbs in behind her, giving the driver MacKenzie’s address over her half-hearted protests. The cabbie glances at Mac in the rear view mirror, clearly concerned, but she gives him a slight nod and he starts the engine with a shrug. MacKenzie turns to look out the window, positioning herself so her back is to Will. He wants to reach for her, he always wants to reach for her - he’s never been one for holding hands but he always loved the intimacy of holding MacKenzie’s hand. But she’s right; she deserves more than flirty comments and lingering touches. He owes her an explanation. An apology. 

“You were right,” Will says after a moment, trying to gather the words in his mind before he loses the thread of what he wants to tell her. Mac doesn’t turn around but he can tell from the tilt of her head that he has her attention. “I’ve been punishing you for something I forgave you for a long time ago, I was trying to convince myself I was still angry at you. Because the truth is I was scared to let you in again.”

MacKenzie leans back in her seat, still not looking at him but he can at least see her profile now. The tears that still glisten in her eyes, the quiver in her lower lip. And he still doesn’t feel like he can touch her, but he shuffles slightly closer, body angled towards her, his hand resting on the seat between them, inches from her thigh. 

“I was scared of getting hurt,” he adds with a self-conscious chuckle. 

The tears spill out now but she doesn’t bother to hide them, letting them flow down her cheeks as she tries to swallow past the lump in her throat. 

Will has to look away now, wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms and hold her against him. He can’t exactly do that when he’s the reason she’s hurting, figures that the least he can do is tell her the whole truth. 

“When you told me about your time embedded,” he goes on, voice low and uneven. “I was so ashamed, so _terrified_ , of how much I hurt you. And I know you told me it had nothing to do with me.” He looks at her again, surprised to meet her gaze, relieved to see the tears have stopped. “I don’t know how you can’t see how much I hurt you, Mac.” 

He leans into her now, can’t stop himself for reaching out to her, one hand cupping her face while the other grasps at her hand. He’s beyond caring that they’re in the back of a cab three blocks from her apartment, that his voice is choked up and his eyes are tearing up. And he’s beyond caring that MacKenzie hurt him three years ago. Because, _what’s the point?_ She’s here now. She came back again and again, no matter how much he tried to punish her, to push her away. 

“I’m so sorry, MacKenzie,” he chokes out in a whisper. “You have no idea how sorry I am.”

Mac places her hand over his where it rests on the side of her face, blinking back tears as she murmurs, "I hurt you too." 

And it’s true, she did. But he has to believe it wasn’t intentional, that she never actively set out to hurt him. Not like he did to her. Before he can tell her that none of that matters anymore, she lets go of his hand and pulls away from him. 

“I still don’t know what you want from me.”

The cab comes to a stop outside MacKenzie’s building then and, without a word, Will throws a wad of bills at the driver and follows her out onto the street. Hopefully leaves enough of a tip that they’re not going to end up in the tabloids tomorrow. 

“Are you coming upstairs?” Mac asks with a resigned sigh as she rummages through her bag for her keys. 

“Do you want me to?” It’s still raining and Will would rather not have this conversation out on the street but he’s also very aware of the fact that he hijacked Mac’s cab and the last thing he wants is for her to feel like she has to invite him up. 

She stops, turns back to him. She looks annoyed and Will briefly wonders if it might be in his best interest to flag down the next taxi that passes. Then a look of hurt flashes across her face and he knows he’s not going anywhere. 

“What do _you_ want?” She demands, one hand on her hip, the other brushing her wet bangs out her face. 

“I want you, MacKenzie,” Will blurts out. And it’s not exactly what he had been planning to say but he figures he’s just going to go with it at this point. It is the truth, after all. 

“I, uh - I don’t understand,” she stammers when it becomes clear he isn’t going to take it back. She seems to be frozen in place as she looks up at him, brows knitted in confusion. “What about Brian? What about everything else-“

“I don’t care about any of that shit,” Will interrupts, stepping closer. “And maybe I should,” he continues with a shrug. “But it’s been three years and I haven’t stopped loving you. So, yeah - I’m willing to move past it if you are.”

MacKenzie's breath catches and she looks up at him, eyes sparkling, mouth turned up at the sides.

"Say it again," she murmurs breathlessly.

“Which part?”

She rolls her eyes, her face now split into a grin. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw her this happy and it feels really fucking good knowing that he’s the cause. 

“You love me?”

He nods once, a look of amusement and affection plain on his face. 

“I love you.” 

“Okay.” It’s her who reaches for him this time, hooks her arms around his neck, body pressed against his as she pushes up onto her tiptoes. And they’re both soaked to the skin, but Will really can’t bring himself to care when MacKenzie brushes her lips against his and says, “I love you too, by the way.”

Will shivers in a way that has absolutely nothing to do with the cold that is currently seeping through his bones, tangles his hands in Mac’s hair, and kisses her the way he’s been imagining for longer than he can remember. He moves his hands to her waist, deepening the kiss in a way that could probably be deemed indecent considering where they are. Mac doesn't seem to mind, however, one hand now tangled in his hair while she slides the other under his coat, holding him tightly against her.

She pulls away first, giggling at Will’s pout, runs her thumb along his lower lip. 

“Will?”

“Yes?” But he’s distracted by the flush on her cheeks, her slightly swollen lips, the feel of her body against his. And she must be able to tell, because she laughs softly, scratches her nails lightly along the nape of his neck until he meets her gaze once more. He wants to make a joke, to remind her that he’s in love with her and he’ll stare at her if he damn well pleases, but she’s smiling at him softly, and it reminds him so much of how she used to look at him that the words get caught in his throat. He kisses her again, just because he can. 

“Billy,” she admonishes with a laugh, pulls away slightly, just enough so she can see his face. 

Will rests his forehead against hers, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, leans down to brush his lips against hers once more.

“Yes?” He repeats, this time with a smile. 

“Would you like to come upstairs?”

He really would, more than anything. But, while he may be ready to pick up where they left off, he wants to be absolutely certain Mac is on the same page, doesn't want to pressure her if she's not quite ready.

“Are you sure?” 

MacKenzie untangles herself from his grasp and there’s a moment where he worries she’s changed her mind already, but she just moves towards the door, key in hand, and turns to look at him over her shoulder. 

“It’s been three years, Will. I’m done wasting time.”

Head tilted and bottom lip tucked between her teeth, she props the door open with her shoulder, holds one hand out to him while she waits for him to respond.

It takes him less than a second to reach for her hand, tender smiles on both their faces as he follows her inside.


	7. i'm gonna keep you in love with me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They decide to keep it to themselves. At least at first. There’s still so much to discuss and so much to work through, but neither wants to waste anymore time. And if dating in secret is the only way for them to navigate the years of hurt and mistrust between them, then they’re both okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this chapter took way longer than expected. firstly on account of how exhausted my first full week back at work made me (lol) and secondly because what was supposed to be maybe 2000 words of lighthearted fluff turned into over 5000 words of lighthearted fluff.  
> thank you so much to everyone who has been reading/ leaving kudos/ commenting! (I know I'm not the best at replying but it really has been very motivating and much appreciated!!)  
> I hope you enjoy this last chapter (all 5000 words of it) and I can't thank you enough for reading and sticking with me! 💕💕💕

They decide to keep it to themselves. At least at first. There’s still so much to discuss and so much to work through, but neither wants to waste anymore time. And if dating in secret is the only way for them to navigate the years of hurt and mistrust between them, then they’re both okay with that. 

.

Tess is the first to find out. Neither of them tell her of course, but the surreptitious glances Will and MacKenzie start giving each other across the bullpen are drastically different from the sad, longing glances she’s used to, especially after the week they spent avoiding each other. So she investigates. And, by investigates, she means she watches them closely for a week or so until she has definitive proof. 

If Exhibit A is the flirty looks they give each other, then Exhibit B is the way Will briefly touches his hand to Mac’s back whenever they start walking somewhere together. (Exhibit B Part 2 is the slight flush that spreads across Mac’s cheeks when he does this.) But coy glances and lingering touches aren’t enough. So Tess starts listening in on their conversations when she can. Or, if they’re too far away to hear, observing how their interactions have changed. 

The most obvious change is in the way they argue. It’s not any more infrequent and not any less passionate, but there’s definitely a lot less bitter anger. And the arguments start being entirely about work, neither of them slipping in vitriolic barbs about their personal history. They start to feel more like actual debates than the fights she’s witnessed in the past. 

Pretty soon a pattern emerges. After an argument, they’ll both take some time to themselves and then one of them goes to the others office, where they’ll spend at least twenty minutes shut away, doors closed and blinds drawn. They’ll leave the office an undetermined amount of time later, all traces of anger and tension gone. 

The definitive proof she’s been looking for comes on a Thursday night. Gary is trying to convince a group to go to Hang Chew’s after the show (most of the staffers are wary of his invite because Gary has recently discovered a love for karaoke) and has so far recruited Martin, herself and Tamara. He turns his attention to Will, asks if he’s coming. 

And Will briefly glances at MacKenzie, turns back to Gary. 

“Can’t, I have a date,” he tells him with a shrug. 

Tess is pretty sure she’s the only one who notices the look on MacKenzie’s face, cheeks pink as she turns away slightly, bottom lip tucked beneath her teeth to hide a smile. 

Fifteen minutes later, she watches them head for the elevator, Will’s hand hovering over MacKenzie’s back. Tess leans back in her seat with a smirk, wonders how long it’ll take for everyone else to notice. (They aren’t exactly masters of subtlety.)

.

Sloan is next to suspect something is going on. Which is saying a lot considering how oblivious she tends to be about this kind of thing. And how drunk she was the night Mac came to her for advice she barely remembers giving. But, hey - Mac and Will still haven’t killed each other so she figures it was pretty solid advice. 

The three of them are in the conference room discussing the direction they want to take the next couple of economic broadcasts. At least, that had been the plan. Before they had started arguing about God knows what; she has no idea how it started, only that it escalated before Sloan even had a chance to notice the rising tension. As soon as Mac had started speaking in clipped tones and Will had thrown his hands in the air in frustration, Sloan had left them to it, choosing to focus on the files in front of her, highlighting paragraphs that seem important while trying to drown out the yelling. 

When it becomes clear that they’re not going to stop anytime soon and she might have to intervene (wouldn’t be the first time) she leans back in her seat with a loud sigh and turns to Mac, who, at that moment, tilts her head, bites her bottom lip and Will, she swears to God, blushes, his rebuttal falling from his lips as MacKenzie steps towards him, an extra sway in her hips. 

“Wouldn’t you agree, Billy?” She asks sweetly, flutters her eyelashes. 

And all he can do is nod frantically before guiding her out of the room, his hand urgently pressed against the small of her back. 

Sloan watches with a frown as they cross the bullpen and disappear in the direction of the editing bays. 

She doesn’t see either of them for the rest of the afternoon. And when they reappear, two hours before air, Mac has a slight bite mark just above her collar bone (low enough that her shirt covers it, but Sloan notices it when Mac leans across Maggie’s desk) and Will’s cowlick is worse than ever. 

And now Sloan is horrified to realise that Mac and Will are 100% back together and Kenzie never thought to tell her. She’s even more horrified when it dawns on her that their earlier argument had apparently been some kind of foreplay.

.

Neal, having just returned from his holiday, had figured it out within five minutes of arriving at work. He prides himself on being able to read Will and MacKenzie’s moods, is quite often approached by other staff when they want to know if it’s a good time to go into either of their offices. So, of course, the first thing he notices, before he’s even at his desk, before he’s even taken off his coat, is Will and MacKenzie arriving at the same time. Sure it’s not unusual, but the wide grin Will is sporting despite it being the earliest Neal has ever seen him arrive at work definitely is. As though this weren’t suspicious enough, they both have takeaway coffee cup from the Starbucks down the street, Will’s name written on both cups. 

It takes him ten minutes of the rundown meeting to decide he his 100% confident in his suspicions. He’s spent enough time observing Mac and Will to know when they are bickering because they enjoy it or when they are flat out arguing. And so far there’s been a lot of lingering glances (different from their usual longing glances), fluttering of eyelashes (from Mac; this paired with chewing on her bottom lip must have some kind of an effect on Will, because she employs this tactic a lot when trying to convince him of her argument), and a fair amount of trailing off mid-sentence when Mac bends down to pick up the pen she dropped (this was Will and it happened at least three times, enough for Neal to rightfully surmise that MacKenzie had been doing it on purpose).

He wonders why no one told him. Eventually realises no one else knows (except maybe Tess who gives him a knowing look when she catches him staring at Mac and Will across the bullpen, but he’s reluctant to bring it up with her in case he’s mistaken). He’ll keep it to himself for now, he decides. Figures it’ll make for a hilarious anecdote at their wedding. 

.

Will flat out tells Maggie. She comes to find him after the show, needs to get his suit back to wardrobe and she enters his office to see him sitting at his desk, reading something on the computer screen with a slight frown on his face. He’s distracted when she speaks to him, barely notices her presence. 

“Is everything okay?” she asks, hands awkwardly clasped in front of her. 

He looks up at her then, lets out a long sigh as he leans back in his chair. 

“What do you think?” He turns his computer so she can see; he’s looking at necklaces. Very beautiful, expensive necklaces. Will clicks on one, looks at her with a shrug. 

“That costs more than my rent,” Maggie blurts out, in complete disbelief that anyone would ever spend thousands of dollars on a necklace. It also begs the question: for whom is Will buying expensive, extravagant jewellery? “It’s nice, though,” she adds awkwardly, not entirely sure why Will is seeking her advice when he’s made it very clear he thinks she dresses like a toddler. He insisted it was meant as a compliment but she’s not convinced. 

He leans forward, elbows resting on his desk as his eyes bore into hers. It’s verging on uncomfortable but she can’t bring herself to look away. 

“Can you keep a secret?” But he doesn’t wait for her to respond before continuing. “It’s for MacKenzie. I need something that says _I’m sorry I let you think I hated you and I’m sorry I was such a jerk and also I love you and I’m glad you forgave me_. And I figured it’s much too soon for an engagement ring so-“

He trails off and Maggie gapes at him, a look of deep deliberation on her face, before settling on, “you and Mac are back together?”

“Yes and I’m not giving you anymore details than that and if you tell anyone I will fire you. Now, what do you think of the necklace?”

It really is beautiful, a simple gold chain adorned with five tiny diamonds. But it also costs four and a half thousand dollars and Maggie finds herself feeling needlessly subconscious about her own twenty-four dollar Urban Outfitters necklace. 

Of course, she doesn’t voice any of this. Simply tells him the necklace is beautiful and she’s sure MacKenzie will love it. 

Maggie, having now acquired Will’s suit, stops in the doorway, turns back to face him. 

“Will,” she says quietly, a small smile on her face. “I’m really happy for you guys.”

He waves her off, turns back to his computer. But she notices the way he presses his lips together, tries to stifle a smile. It doesn’t really work. 

.

Jim is near enough traumatised by how he finds out. He’d missed the morning rundown thanks to a dental appointment, comes in just before lunch to an abundance of files and documents left on his desk and at least twelve unread emails in his inbox. 

The first is from MacKenzie, labelled _Urgent_. So, after reading it, he heads to her office to discuss it. She’s not there. Nor is she in Will’s office or in the control room. No one else seems to know where she is either and Tess, for some reason, stifles a laugh when he mentions he can’t find Will either, while Maggie won’t meet his eyes. 

Grumbling to himself, Jim leaves them with instructions to tell MacKenzie he is looking for her if she turns up and heads to the editing bays, decides he may as well use this time to go over some of the packages for tonight’s show. 

The editing bays are usually empty at this time so he shoulders open the door for the first one he comes to, eyes trained on his blackberry as he reaches for the light switch. Only to freeze when he hears a giggle and a moan, eyes widening and jaw dropping when his eyes snap up. 

MacKenzie giggles again from where she is sitting on the desk, Will standing between her thighs. One of her legs is hooked around his, the hand that Jim can see is on Will’s ass, the other God knows where. Will has one hand resting on the desk while the other is somewhere under Mac’s blouse. Neither of them notice him, both apparently too preoccupied with sticking their tongues down the other’s throat, so Jim slowly backs out the room, pulls the door closed behind him. He briefly wonders if he should stand guard or put a sign up or _something_ when Will groans again and he decides he really should just get the fuck out of there. 

And so what if he spends the rest of the day avoiding both Will and MacKenzie. That’s his business. And at least he manages to stop himself from telling Maggie what he had seen when she asks if he ever found Mac, instead just blushes bright red and stammers something about sending her an email and catching her during the rundown meeting. 

.

Don knows there’s something happening in the office he’s not privy to. He doesn’t mind, really. He’s never been one to get involved in office gossip and he understands the necessity of keeping secrets. 

He just thinks it’s hilarious that Sloan is so terrible at it. Sure, she’s not told him what the secret is, but he’d eaten lunch with her last Tuesday and when he next saw her, just before News Night started, it was blatantly obvious that she knew something she shouldn’t and was dying to tell someone. 

So he’s been dealing with that for a week, secretly impressed with Sloan’s ability to keep whatever this secret is. (When Mac had told Sloan that Will had kissed her after the show one night, Sloan had told Don that very same night. Sworn him to secrecy, somehow making it his secret too.) Teasing Sloan about it is fun, and not just because she scowls at him and swats at his arm and maybe there’s some feelings developing there, _whatever_. But at the end of the day, it’s not going to make a difference to his life whether or not he finds out this particular secret.  
He uncovers the secret a week and a half later. Definitely not on purpose, and surprisingly through no fault of Sloan.

He receives an email from MacKenzie just before lunch. This isn’t unusual; she sends him lots of emails. But when he opens this one (the subject is _Very Important Work Things_ ) it becomes clear that it was not meant for him. 

_Billy_

_I’ve been doing some thinking and I really think we have no reason to leave your bed this weekend. Except maybe for food. But definitely no reason to leave your apartment._

_What are you doing for lunch?_

_Fancy eating out? The editing bays are usually free between 12 and 1_

_Love, MacKenzie_

Don’s first thought is why the hell would they eat their lunch in an editing bay? Only after rereading the email twice does it dawn on him what she means by eating out. And you know what, he thinks, good for her. 

He forwards the email to Will without comment, figures they must have a reason for keeping their new relationship to themselves. Even if they don’t seem to be doing a very good job. 

(Neither of them look him in the eye for the rest of the week, but he did clock them scurrying off just before lunch, Mac stifling her giggles while Will power walked ahead of her. In the direction of the editing bays.)

And if he doesn’t tell Sloan that he knows what she’s not telling him, just so he can continue to tease her, well, that can be his secret. 

.

As is tradition all the staff goes to Hang Chew’s for Hallowe’en. As is also tradition, apparently, Martin is the only one who dresses up. So the staff do what they do every year, which is make fun of Martin for dressing up and getting terribly drunk. 

Gary starts some kind of drinking game which literally just involves taking a drink every time Martin calls them boring for refusing to dress up. It really doesn’t take long at all until they are reasonably tipsy. Especially when Martin catches onto their game, and admonishes them for a full five minutes, watching with a smirk as they all get more and more unsteady. 

When one of the interns ends up so drunk he can barely walk, Martin feels guilty enough that he helps him flag down a cab, makes sure he gives the right address, even gives him money to cover the fare. 

He turns to go back into the bar, spluttering an apology when he bumps into a couple making out on the sidewalk. They haven’t seemed to notice him, too engrossed with each other. And it’s only when Martin does a double take at the door, does he realise it’s Will and MacKenzie. A very drunk Will and MacKenzie making out in the middle of the street like horny teenagers. 

Martin knows he should look away, not just so he doesn’t look like a weirdo, but also because the last thing he wants is for them to know he’s seen them. He can’t look away, however, is frozen in place. Wondering when the hell they got back together and how the fuck they managed to keep it to themselves. It’s only when Will’s hand slides down to cover MacKenzie’s ass that Martin comes to his senses and heads inside, leaving Will and MacKenzie groping each other on the sidewalk. 

Martin must still look pretty shell-shocked when he rejoins the group in the bar because Gary frowns at him, asks if he’s okay. 

“You guys won’t believe what I just saw,” Martin says, shaking his head as he drops into a seat. 

Neal looks at him with narrowed eyes, head tilted to the side, and guesses, “was it Will and MacKenzie?”

Martin nods frantically, leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. 

“Will and MacKenzie _making out_ ,” he whispers conspiratorially. 

“Called it,” Tess says with a smirk. 

“How do we know they’re together?” Kendra asks. “Maybe it’s just a drunken hook-up.”

“Believe me,” Jim says with a shudder, thinking back to Tuesday afternoon in the editing bay. “They’re together.”

“You knew?” Maggie accuses with a frown. 

He blushes now, won’t meet her gaze. “I accidentally walked in on them, you know - kissing...”

“Wait,” Tess says, turning to Maggie. “How did you know?”

“Will told me,” Maggie admits with a sheepish shrug. Because, hey, the cat’s already out the bag at this point. 

“ _Maggie_.”

“He swore me to secrecy,” Maggie defends. 

“He threatened to fire you?” Neal asks with a grin. 

“Yup.”

There’s maybe ten seconds of silence while they all process this because, while most of them suspected, Maggie and Jim were the only ones who knew for sure. 

“Wait,” Gary says slowly, “did everyone know but me?”

There’s a grumble of voices as everyone talks over each other, describing how they either found out or suspected Will and MacKenzie got back together. 

“Do you think they still think they’ve managed to keep it a secret?” Maggie asks with a grin. 

Jim thinks back to being embedded with MacKenzie, how surprised she’d been at his lack of surprise when she’d told him about Will (she’s never been very subtle and she has a terrible poker face), then, again, coming to work with her at ACN and how she’d managed to hide her and Will’s previous relationship for maybe three days before the entire staff somehow found out they had a history. 

“I can guarantee that MacKenzie will be shocked to find out everyone knows.”

“So do we tell them we know?” Maggie asks with a frown. 

Tess shakes her head, reaches for her drink. “No, let them think they've kept their secret. I have an idea."

. 

Mac leans her head against Will’s shoulder as she watches the numbers in the elevator go up. She has a coffee cup in one hand, Will’s hand in the other. And while she is usually more careful about PDA at work (in public spaces - their offices, his bathroom and editing bays are fair game) she can’t help herself, pressing even closer to him as she stifles a yawn. 

“Tired?” Will asks with a smile, pressing a light kiss to the top of her head. 

“Mmm.” Letting go of his hand, she wraps her arm around his waist. Now that they’re doing this, that they’re back together, she can’t get enough of him. Is constantly seeking him out, his touch, his warmth. Just _him_. “My boyfriend is very inconsiderate. He kept me up all night.”

Will slides his hand under her blazer, rests it on her waist as he rubs his thumb gently over the soft material of her blouse. 

“Sounds like a great guy.”

There’s a soft ping and Mac pulls away with a reluctant sigh just as the elevator doors slide open. She doesn’t bother to hide her smile when she feels Will’s hand on the small of her back, guiding her to the newsroom. 

Her day starts no different that any other day, but by the time she is getting ready for the first rundown meeting, she is seriously beginning to question why all the staff seem to be staring at her and why Neal hasn’t stopped grinning all morning. 

Things just get stranger from there. Halfway through the meeting, Tess interrupts MacKenzie to ask if she’s single, because apparently she knows someone who is absolutely perfect for her. MacKenzie has absolutely no idea what to say to this and she can see Will out the corner of her eye, arms folded across his chest as he narrows his eyes at Tess. She can tell he is desperate to say something, relaxing only slightly when Mac turns back to Tess and says, “thanks but I’m not really looking for anything at the moment.”

“Your loss,” Tess says with a shrug. “This guy is really hot. Smart, rich, funny. The whole package.”

“Anyway,” Mac says loudly, hoping to distract from the definite pout that is now on Will’s face. “Can we get back to the meeting?”

MacKenzie then spends almost twenty minutes waiting for Will in one of the editing bays, only to track him down in his office and find a flustered, red-faced Jim sitting across from him at his desk and stammering on about a segment Fox News had done the night before despite having never shown an ounce of interest in the topic. 

Will shoots her a pleading look and Jim almost jumps out his seat when he sees her. 

“Tamara was looking for you,” Jim tells her, but it comes out as more of a question. And, once again, MacKenzie has to ask herself what the fuck is going on with her staff today? “But no one knew where you were,” Jim adds, raising his eyebrows in a way that Mac is sure is supposed to mean something, if she could focus on anything other than his sweaty brow. 

“Can I have a moment with Will?” She asks, an amused look on her face. 

Jim bounces out his seat, looking terribly relieved as he practically runs past her and out the door. 

“Is it just me or are the staff acting crazier than usual today?” Will asks as MacKenzie crosses the room and drops into the seat just vacated by Jim. 

“I’ve noticed it too,” She assures him with a huff of laughter, reaching across the desk to press her hand against his before pulling back. “Do you think -“ she frowns, tilts her head to the side. “Do you think they know?”

“About us? No...”

“Maggie knows,” Mac lists on her fingers. “And Don. Anyone else?”

“Unless you’ve accidentally emailed anyone else sordid details about our relationship,” Will teases, but he’s smiling at her with that look in his eyes that she’s slowly getting used to again, is just past the point where she’s no longer questioning it. 

“Hey, at least mine was accidental.”

“I could almost argue that that’s worse.”

MacKenzie glances over to make sure the door is closed before resting her elbows on the desk and leaning forward. Will mirrors her body language, a questioning look on his face. 

“We could just tell them,” Mac says softly. “I mean, this is it. Isn’t it?” 

“What do you mean?” Will presses his fingertips lightly against hers where her hand rests on the desk. MacKenzie smiles, tangles her fingers through his, despite being all too aware of the glass walls and their overly invested colleagues. Blushing now, she worries at her bottom lip, eyes trained on their joined hands. 

“I mean,” she draws out slowly with a slight shrug of her shoulders, forces herself to meet his gaze once more, “that you’re it for me. There’s never going to be anyone else.”

“MacKenzie.” Will’s tone is teasing but the look on his face is earnestly sincere as he leans in even more and says plainly, “you’re it for me, too.”

No one does a very good job at hiding the fact they’ve been staring and/or trying to eavesdrop when Mac and Will leave his office half an hour later, and MacKenzie misses when the staff would at least pretend they weren’t overly invested in their relationship, when they would quickly look away when one of them so much as glanced in their direction. But now everyone is apparently fine with staring openly, weird grins on their face as they track her and Will’s movements across the bullpen. 

Mac makes her way to Jim’s desk while Will stops to ask Neal something. She smiles sweetly at Jim, and she can tell by the look on his face that he knows she knows somethings going on, is about to ask him about it when Neal announces loudly from the other side of the room that he thinks Will needs a wingman and that he’s up for the task. Which, really, would be laughable in any other situation but the staff really aren’t being as subtle as they think they are and MacKenzie’s getting antsy as she waits for Will to respond. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Will demands, addressing the entire staff now. No one answers, all exchanging awkward glances as they avoid meeting Will or Mac’s gaze. 

So Will turns to Maggie, who presses her lips together defiantly before her whole body seems to deflate and she blurts out, seemingly without taking a breath between words, “everyone knows you’re back together. Tess and Neal figured it out and Martin and Jim saw you making out - two different occasions - and Will told me, and we think Don and Sloan know too.”

Maggie lets out a slow breath, seemingly relieved to be rid of this secret, if the pleased look on her face is anything to go by. Then she seems to remember that she just told said secret in front of everyone and winces, apology on the tip of her tongue. 

“Wait a minute,” Mac chimes in, hands on her hip and brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean _figured it out_?”

“You guys aren’t exactly subtle,” Maggie points out, no sign of her earlier hesitation. “After Will told me I realised I probably should’ve figured it out myself.”

“But we were stealthy,” Mac pouts. Because hadn’t they been? Sure, they’d become more lax with arriving together, Will no longer hanging back in the lobby for five minutes while she would go on ahead to her office. And, yes, Mac had teased more than once that the staff were sure to figure it out if Will didn’t stop checking her out or making eyes at her from across the bullpen. And, okay, maybe she has been staring at him just as much but her argument had been that she has been sending him longing glances since her first day at News Night, why should she stop just because they’re back together? And, sure, they had broken their rule of no making out at work within half a day, but - “Okay,” Mac says with a resigned shrug. “I can see now that we were not stealthy at all.”

And she can’t help but smile at the confused frown on Will’s face as he, no doubt, tries to pinpoint what exactly gave them away. 

“What I want to know,” Tess chimes in, either oblivious to or ignoring Will’s glare (probably the latter since it’s been a long time since she’s found Will intimidating) “is, when did you get back together?”

Mac hesitates, looks from Tess, staring up at her expectantly, to Kendra, smirking at her, one eyebrow raised, to Jim, who gives her an apologetic shrug. Even Maggie seems to be waiting for her to answer. 

“The night of Gary’s birthday,” she answers while Will throws his arms in the air and stammers something about _personal boundaries_. “And that’s all you’re getting.”

“That was _weeks_ ago,” Neal points out. “How-“

“No,” Will interrupts, crossing the bullpen until he is standing next to MacKenzie. “No,” he repeats, one hand raised in front of him, the other subconsciously reaching for her, coming to rest on her hip. “We’re not doing this. Yes, MacKenzie and I are back together. We have been for a couple of weeks now. No, we didn’t tell you. In fact, we would appreciate it if you could all pretend you still don’t know.”

“Billy,” Mac admonishes with a fond roll of her eyes, elbows him lightly in the chest. 

“What?”

Shaking her head, she tucks herself into his side, biting back a grin at the way Tess and Tamara literally _squee_. 

“Okay.” Will glances at his watch, removes his hand from MacKenzie’s waist only to take her hand and lead her to his office. “Twenty minutes until the rundown, we’ll be in my office. If you interrupt us for anything less than a national emergency, I will fire you.”

Mac can feel her cheeks heat up as she trails behind him, trying to avoid the knowing looks coming from the staff. But she’s no longer hiding her smile, so blissfully happy at this point that she doesn’t really care what the staff think. 

(Although she is already planning to speak to Jim later. Find out how he managed to catch them making out and figure out how she can ensure it doesn’t happen again. Of course, one way to do this would be to re-enact their no making out at work rule. But that doesn’t seem sustainable, Mac thinks, so surely their only option is just to get better at sneaking around.)

“So much for personal boundaries,” MacKenzie teases with a laugh as Will ushers her into the office and moves to close the blinds. 

He reaches for her and she steps easily into his embrace. And they forget all about the staff, with their prying eyes and their whispered gossip, focused only on each other. 

“Hey, I closed the blinds, didn’t I?” Will murmurs softly, closing the gap between them so he can brush his lips lightly against hers. 

And Mac lets her rebuttal fall away, decides there are much better things she could be using her mouth for right now, knows exactly how much she and Will can get up to in twenty minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! 💕


End file.
